


There's Always Been a Rainbow Hanging Over Your Head

by BroadwayBaggins



Category: Downton Abbey, Little Women (2019), Mercy Street (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Drabble, F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBaggins/pseuds/BroadwayBaggins
Summary: A collection of unrelated drabbles, most based on prompts. Many fandoms, some crossovers.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Snowed In on Sunday

The forecast had called for two inches of snow; ten had fallen. It was still falling even now, beginning to drift, burying Mary’s trusty Honda Civic as Jed called out local school closings as they came in, the way he usually reserved for election results and other people might call out scores on Super Bowl night or during March Madness. Mary rolled her eyes as he called out another one, coming back from the kitchen with two glasses of wine that were probably just a little more full than they should have been, but _hey_ , what else were they supposed to do while they were being snowed in?

“You are such a nerd,” she told him affectionately as he passed him a glass, settling down in the crook between his body and the corner of the couch.

“Takes one to know one, Phinney.”

“We don’t even know anyone in school, or with kids in school. I don’t know why you care so much. You know that we’ll have to go into work tomorrow regardless.”

“Hospitals don’t get snow days,” Jed agreed sadly. “I know. I just enjoy seeing which schools are wimpy enough to call off early, and who’s going to wait until tomorrow at 5 AM to do it instead. Why?” he asked suddenly. “What would you rather do instead?”

“Rather than watch my boyfriend triumphantly yell the name of every school district in DC? How about literally anything else?”

She took a sip of her wine, missing the look that came over Jed’s face at her words. The moment her glass was safely on the coffee table, he was in motion, grabbing hold of her by the waist and pulling himself so that he was hovering over her on the couch. His face was only inches from hers as he murmured, “Was this more what you had in mind?”

“It’s about damn time, Foster,” Mary said with a smirk as she leaned up to kiss him.


	2. On Defense of the Oxford Comma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary and Jed argue. Both think they are right--only one is.

“If you want to fight about the Oxford comma, we can, but I can tell you with absolute, 100%, Lady Gaga in the meat dress confidence, you’re not going to win,” she said.

“Colorful analogy, Phinney,” Jed drawled in that infuriating way of his that he only ever used when he was convinced he was right about something. Mary contemplated briefly the idea of chucking a pillow at him, if only to wipe the smirk off his face.

Jed continued, giving what he probably considered to be an impish shrug. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re wrong, though.”

Mary’s eyes narrowed. “The Oxford comma is wonderful, _comma, space,_ not intrusive, _comma, space,_ and _absolutely necessary_.”

“Oh, Mary,” he said with a smirk, his voice low. “I love it when you talk grammar to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt, and the first sentence, once again came from the mind of the magnificent Middlemarch


	3. Warm Woolen Mittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Rose have a heart-to-heart. Takes place post The Last Jedi.

“You should take these.”

Rey is startled, blinking so the blurred snowflakes falling in front of her suddenly appear sharp and clear in her vision. It takes her a moment to realize that it is Rose speaking to her, and another minute to place the object that she’s holding out expectantly, waiting for Rey to take. She blinks again at the pair of thick leather gloves, outstretched on Rose’s palm.

“What?” she asks, her voice hoarse. She’s not sure how long she’s been out here, staring into space, but she dimly realizes that her hands and feet have gone somewhere past numb, sending tingles of pins and needles throughout her body every time she moves.

“They’ll help, I promise. They’ll make you feel better.” Rose’s whole being seems to sag a bit, and she slumps down in the snow next to Rey. “About the cold, that is. Not about everything else. But you better put them on, quick, before your hands fall off.”

“They can do that?” Rey asks, more to herself than Rose. She looks down at her skin, gone red with white at the edges, and gingerly takes one of the gloves. Instant warmth surrounds her, so soothing that it’s almost painful. “Oh! Those are nice.”

Rose falls silent for a second, and when she speaks, her voice is far away. “They belonged to my sister.”

Instantly Rey feels half a dozen things at once, guilt and shame and sorrow for someone she never got to meet, but whose fate she feels responsible for somehow. She quickly goes to strip off the gloves, and Rose frowns at her in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I shouldn’t–they were–I shouldn’t take them. They were your sister’s, I can’t…”

“Rey, I’m giving them to you.”

“You should keep them. I don’t–” she cuts herself off harshly for a moment, shaking her head and blinking back a stubborn tear. She clears her throat and tries again. “I don’t have a family, but I know how important these must mean to you. You should have them.”

She can’t quite read the look on Rose’s face, but her eyes are kind as she looks up at Rey. “Paige would want them to go to someone who can use them. She’d say you need them more than she does” She gently places her hand on top of Rey’s, tentative at first like she’s afraid that Rey will pull away. “I’m giving them to you because that’s what she would do.”

“Thank you,” Rey says, her voice soft and hiding the slightest bit of a tremble. 

“No problem. Just don’t stay out here too long, okay? No one wants to explain to General Organa that her Jedi got frozen.” Rose stands up, brushing snow off of herself, and turns to go. She only gets a few steps away before she stops, turning back to consider Rey thoughtfully.

“And you’re wrong, you know,” she tells Rey in a matter-of-fact tone. “About not having a family. You might not have had one before, but I promise, you’ve got one now. You have the Resistance. You have _us_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another tumblr prompt. I obviously got the title from The Sound of Music!


	4. Lollipops are Overrated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think lollipops are overrated." Or, Ben Solo has Thoughts and Opinions about Valentine's Day.
> 
> (Modern AU)

“I think lollipops are overrated,” he said, gesturing to a display of giant lollipops in an array of reds and pinks, ranging from bubblegum to Rey’s favorite shade of lipstick. Ben went to pick one up, then decided against it, scrunching up his nose. “First of all, the predominant flavor is sugar. You can’t look me in the eye and tell me these actually taste like strawberry or cotton candy or whatever shit the label says. Secondly, they’re so impractical. You buy that, you’re stuck eating it the rest of the day. It’s a great one-way ticket to cavities–”

“Okay, Doctor Killjoy, we get the picture,” Rey said dryly. “No lollipops. Why don’t you just save a little time and admit that what you really hate is Valentine’s Day?”

Ben instantly turned as pink as the nearest lollipop, and Rey felt a prickle of triumph that she’d been able to read him so well. “I don’t…it’s not as bad now,” he admitted finally. “When I’ve–”

“Got someone to share it with?” she offered softly.

“Exactly. But all the expectations, the endless assault of pink and red, the expense, the ridiculously gendered gifts–”

“Hey, relax. I was mostly just teasing. But speaking of gifts, we do need to pick something out for your mom, so maybe let’s focus on that? In fact, maybe leave this section all together.” It was only a matter of time before Ben spotted something truly apalling in the Valentine’s section of the shop–

Too late.

“Dear God! Who puts lingerie in the candy section?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Middlemarch provided the prompt/first sentence for this one too. At this point she's like my prompt enabler.
> 
> Also, I'm a Reylo now, so deal with it.


	5. Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose Tico goes for a job interview.

The woman had arrived to her interview late, bursting into the office with a flurry of snowflakes in her wake and her hat drawn low against the cold. Her black hair was cut in a fashionable bob, and her eyes shone bright with determination as she took her seat across from Edith. Edith looked down at the references before her on her desk, her eyes skimming over the glowing words of praise.

“You’re late, Miss Tico,” she said, not unkindly.

“I’m sorry. I promise not to make a habit of it. The bus got stuck in the snow.”

Edith nodded, looking back down at the letters in front of her. “You were studying at Oxford before the war?”

“I only made it a year and a half. I decided I was needed elsewhere, so I worked as a mechanic for a time, and then…” Her vision clouded over for a second, and Edith thought she saw her blink back tears, although it could have been a trick of the light. “And then I went to France.”

“Yes, you worked as a nurse, I see.”

“Yes ma’am. My sister did the same. I…I went to take her place.” 

Edith’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Miss Tico continued, her voice brisk. “She died. Typhoid she caught from a soldier she was caring for. I thought that continuing on what she had started would be a better use of my time than sitting around, missing her and feeling sorry for myself.”

“I’m so sorry,” Edith murmured, shocked. “I–I had a sister who was a nurse as well. She passed away two years after the war ended. It was so difficult…I don’t think I could have done what you did.”

Miss Tico smiled faintly. “I met a war correspondent when I was in France who suggested I try writing about my experiences. It was a good way to cope, to try to put everything I was seeing onto paper. I showed them to him, and he sent them on to his editor. I was published a few times–I included the clippings for you to read, if you like.”

“Certainly,” said Edith, pulling one to the top of the stack. She fell silent as she read quickly, feeling Miss Tico’s eyes on her all the while. At one point, she looked up and met the other woman’s gaze, unable to shake the feeling that she was evaluating Edith as much as Edith was evaluating her.

“Why this paper?” she asked when she was finished. “What made you want to be considered for this position? Certainly with your experience and skill–”

“I would be invited to interview and then promptly turned away when they got a good look at me,” Miss Tico said immediately. “They’d see me and send me packing. It’s happened before, Miss Crawley. I thought that here, with a woman editor, at least I’d have a fair shake. That perhaps you at least wouldn’t hold my gender against me as well as my race.”

“I–I’m so sorry,” Edith stammered. “I didn’t think–”

She held up a hand. “Nor should you. It’s fine. I’ve also greatly admired what you’ve done with the paper since you’ve taken over. It can’t have been an easy task.”

“It’s had its ups and downs, to be sure,” Edith agreed, “but my staff is very supportive, which helps.” 

She sat back in her chair, looking at Miss Tico for a long moment. “You come highly recommended. Your talent as a writer is clear, and your determination…I think you’d fit in very well here.”

Rose Tico raised an eyebrow slightly. “Does this mean you’re offering me the job?”

“If I did, would you accept?”

“Yes, I would,”

“Then welcome aboard, Rose Tico.” Edith stood and offered the other woman her hand to shake. Her grip was firm and confident, and although her skin was cold to the touch Edith felt an unexpected warmth at the contact.

Rose’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. “When do I start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Returning to my roots as a crossover addict!
> 
> So, middlemarch had asked for Edith Crawley and Rose Tico. I chose to put Edith into the Downton-verse and see what mischief she can get into there!


	6. Galentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey gathers all the women in her life on her favorite night of the year.

When she was a little girl, she’d wondered why everyone didn’t start with dessert.

Of course, growing up the way she had, bounced around between fosters and group homes and one decidedly horrible stint she didn’t like to think about, dessert had been a rarity. It was no wonder that whenever she’d gotten the opportunity, she had always taken the sweet before the savory–swiping a cupcake at the school carnival before anyone else had even had a slice of pizza, ordering a chocolate lava cake when a well-meaning social worker had taken her to Rainforest Cafe when she was twelve. She’d kept up the habit even now that she was an adult and could buy dessert whenever she wanted. Dessert first, always–why deprive yourself of joy when it was right in front of you? Why wait any longer than you absolutely had to?

She explained all this–or at least the safe-for-work, SparkNotes version guaranteed not to cast too much of a damper on what was supposed to be a fun evening –to a rather confused Jannah, who was experiencing her first Galentine’s Day outing with the group and had asked Rey why, instead of going for the scrambled eggs and bacon served family-style on the table, she had instead made a beeline for the thick Belgian waffles smothered in strawberries, Nutella, and whipped cream. Rose, already used to Rey’s habits after years of friendship, was unfazed as she took a bite of a crepe, a new addition to this year’s celebration and courtesy of Leia, their guest of honor.

“Does it even count as dessert, though?” Rose asked, a question that Rey had heard enough times to ignore. “It’s breakfast food. The sweet and savory go hand in hand.”

Rey ignored her and raised a glass, and they all followed suit, starting with Leia at the head of the table. “To all of the strong women in all of our lives. Happy Galentine’s Day!”


	7. Before the Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Henry visit Washington.

“I’m so nervous, I feel as if my heart might leap straight out of my chest!” Emma whispered, loud enough for only Henry to hear.

When the letter had arrived the week before, summoning one of Mansion House’s nurses for a meeting with the legendary Dorothea Dix in Washington, it had nearly thrown the whole hospital into an uproar. First there was the question of who was to go–Anne Hastings was, of course, the most senior nurse now that Nurse Mary was off in Boston (although Henry was certain that the Englishwoman would have protested vehemently to the phrase _senior nurse_ ) and thus the obvious choice to attend the meeting, but she was reluctant to leave the hospital in the charge of those with less experience, and then there was the small matter of what Dragon Dix would make of an _English_ nurse in the first place. Charlotte was another logical choice, but she had more or less refused to go, not when the cold weather was wreaking havoc on the health of those in the contraband camp. Matron Brannan, as well, had said that her place was in Alexandria, not Washington, and so one way or another it had fallen to Emma Green to make the journey, which Henry volunteering to accompany her in the absence of Dr. Foster, who was in Boston still, and Samuel, who was beginning his medical training up North.

Washington was a dizzying array of sights, sounds, and smells–from the mud and slush mixing in the street to the clatter of what seemed like a hundred carriages and omnibuses, and although Miss Green had surely been to the nation’s capital before, she still jumped like a frightened rabbit at each sound. She had confessed on the journey over that she was terrified of saying the wrong thing and getting herself, Nurse Mary, or the hospital in trouble somehow, and Henry had tried his best to assuage her fears. Henry looked around, spotting a nearby cafe, and touched Emma’s shoulder lightly. “We’re not expected for another hour or so,” he said gently. “Let’s go get something to drink. It’s freezing and I don’t want to be caught outdoors if it decides to start snowing again.”

She nodded, and they picked their way through the crowd into the establishment. The moment they stepped inside, Henry was greeted by the smell of coffee– _real_ coffee, he wasn’t sure how they managed it–and woodsmoke and tobacco. It was warm inside, but not unpleasant, and they found a table near the window. Henry ordered for them–Emma was so distracted, she barely noticed–and they sat in silence for a few moments before a girl appeared with two steaming mugs, setting them down before them and then creeping away on silent, well-practiced feet. Emma reached for her mug and brought it to her lips almost mechanically, her mind a thousand miles away. Henry circled his hands around his own mug, content to have it just for warmth for a moment, and watched her take a sip.

Her eyes widened, and he smiled at her childlike enthusiasm. “Hot chocolate? How?”

“I saw a sign for it, and thought you might like a nice treat. I know it can’t be common in wartime.”

“Or cheap, I would imagine,” Emma began, a flicker of worry coming into her eyes, but Henry held up a hand.

“My treat, Miss Green. You needed something sweet and hot to calm your nerves, and I am happy to oblige.”

“It is delicious,” she admitted, taking another sip. Henry grinned and took a drink from his own cup, closing his eyes briefly at the rich taste. An indulgence, to be sure, but one that was well worth while.

“It should be Nurse Mary,” Emma said after a moment. “I’m a poor substitute for her.”

Henry shook his head. “Never say that about yourself, Emma,” he said earnestly, forsaking propriety for the moment. “Nurse Mary would never allow it, and neither will I. You are a wonderful nurse, and you will prove it to Nurse Dix, I know it.”

She offered him a small smile. “I wish I had the same faith in me that you do.”

“Don’t worry, Emma. I have enough for the both of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Valentine's Day prompt asking for Emma and Henry and chocolate.
> 
> Hot chocolate was introduced to the Americas in the 18th century, although I don't know how readily available it would have been in Washington DC during the Civil War. As such, I've referred to it as a "rare treat" and I hope you'll forgive me any historical accuracy errors!


	8. The Hummel Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo and Fritz team up on a new case. Little Women/Brooklyn 99 crossover modern AU

“Here’s your new partner, Jo– Fritz Bhaer. You’re assigned to the Hummel case, get to work,” Detective Al Cotter, the inspector of the 97, said gruffly because he had one tone of voice and that was it. “Bhaer, this is Jo March. Call her Josephine and you’ll live to regret it.” 

Jo looked up from the case file in her hand, standing up and offering the newcomer her hand. He looked older than her–perhaps mid-thirties, with a mop of dark hair and a serious expression. He shook her hand with a firm grip, but not much of a smile. Cotter had already wandered back to his office, leaving Jo alone with her new partner, apparently.

“Pleased to meet you,” the man–Bhaer–said, his voice punctuated by a clearly European accent. Jo raised her eyebrows at that, curious as to how he had come to work for the Boston PD.

“Likewise. Where are you from?”

“Foxborough. Before that, Germany.”

“That’s quite the commute,” Jo quipped, but her new partner was apparently not in the mood for jokes. He didn’t even crack a smile. A challenge, then. Jo could handle that.

“I’ve been briefed on the case. Money laundering?”

“We think so. We’ve got all kind of records, big payments coming in to Old Man Hummel, yet his kids come to school in ratty clothes–when they’re there at all. His house is a mess, completely falling apart. Meetings with shady characters. Whenever we get a lead in the case, though, he dodges us. Hopefully with you around, we can start to make some real headway. How good are you at improvisation?”

Bhaer looked startled, blinking at her several times, reminding her of one of her sister Beth’s kittens when she was woken from a nap. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean?”

“I mean we’re going to have to go undercover, Fritz. We’re going to have so much fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I owe the premise of this ficlet/first line to the marvelous Ms. Middlemarch. I meant to make this more comedic, but I'm not sure I succeeded.


	9. Absence makes the heart grow fonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben celebrate a successful week of "distance learning" Modern teachers AU.

“Cheers to the first week of home learning,” Rey said, holding up her glass of wine to the webcam lens so Ben could see it. He did the same with his glass, which held dark amber liquid–whiskey, most likely. Despite his claims to not like Hemingway all that much, he certainly did have a lot in common with him. “Clink,” Rey added softly before bringing her glass to her lips.

“I think the powers that be would prefer that we refer to it as ‘ _distance learning_ ’, actually,” Ben corrected after he’d taken a drink. “At least, that’s what all the emails I’ve gotten from administration say. And did you really just _clink_ me?”

“Umm, yes. You can’t have a toast without clinking, Mr. Solo. Everyone knows that. And while we’re on the subject of questionable behavior, what in the name of all that is holy are you wearing?”

“What?” Ben asked, looking down at his sweater in bewilderment. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Did I spill?” His eyes were wide with confusion–hell, even his _hair_ seemed confused, somehow even fluffier than usual. Rey couldn’t help but snicker at the torment she was clearly putting him through.

“No, you didn’t spill. But are you seriously wearing a sweater with goddamn _elbow patches?_ While we’re all working from home on quarantine? Come on, Ben.”

Now he just looked disgruntled. “I’m video-conferencing with my students every day. I want to look professional. Don’t you?”

“Professional? Yes. Like I’m a fifty-year-old English professor waiting to be tenured, like a walking cliche? Not so much. Pajama pants are where it’s at, Ben. The students never need to know.”

He looked scandalized. “You’re teaching in your pajamas?”

“I guess you’ll never know,” she sang. “Please tell me that your Teacher Sweater is at least comfortable. Comfort is everything, you know.”

“It’s perfectly comfortable, thank you, Rey. I’m the head of the history department while Amilyn is on maternity leave. I just want to look the part.”

“Oh, no worries on that front. You look the part a little too well.” Rey took another sip of her wine, watching Ben on her laptop’s screen. The whole situation just felt so surreal, like at any moment she would wake up and find out that it had been some kind of bizarre fever dream and she had overslept and was running late for work, _again_.

“How are your students doing?” she asked softly.

“I think they’re pretty much running the entire spectrum. Some of them are completely nonplussed and are happy with the extra video game time, but are pissed that they can’t see their friends. Understandable on at least one count, I guess. But I’ve also had to talk some very anxious juniors and seniors off the ledge today. My AP US class is completely freaking out about the exam in May, and I hate that there’s so little that I can do to reassure them.” He gave a harsh sigh before downing the rest of his whiskey. “You?”

Rey shrugged. “My sophomores are pretty zen about it, but I only have one class of them and they’re really mature–I totally lucked out with that bunch. The 9th graders are struggling a little more. I think a lot of them miss school more than they were anticipating. I totally get what you mean, though. I feel so helpless most of the time, and I’m supposed to be the adult–the one with all the answers. When honestly, I don’t have any.”

“None of us do. But it’s gonna be okay, Rey.”

“I know. I know it is. I just wish I could tell them when it will be okay.”

“Me too.”

They fell silent for so long that Rey almost wondered if her computer was frozen–she had been meaning to get a new one, but it was on the backburner now like everything else…

“Rey?”

“Yeah?”

“I really miss seeing you every day.”

His words were a surprise, unexpected and sweet, and Rey smiled. “I miss you too, Ben.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Middlemarch prompted me with these two and "elbow". I took a few liberties. I hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how well this little collection will be received, but I wanted a place to put all of the little drabbles I've been doing on tumblr. If you enjoy them, thank you--please leave a review! Otherwise, I'm just looking to archive these before they get lost in the abyss of my tumblr archive.
> 
> Title comes from "Rainbow" by Kacey Musgraves.


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